The iconic Grandma's Marathon, that enduring test of grit along Lake Superior's rugged shores, just marked a milestone frenzy as registration for its 50th running kicked off. Yesterday evening, at 7 p.m. Central Time, spots for the June 20, 2026, event in Duluth, Minnesota, opened to an eager swarm of runners. But hold on—it's not just the full 26.2 miles that vanished quick; the accompanying Garry Bjorklund Half Marathon and William A. Irvin 5K sold out in under 75 minutes flat. Indeed, the half, now a staple opener on race weekend, drew such a rush that organizers barely had time to catch their breath.
This year's buzz feels particularly charged, what with the golden anniversary approaching. Grandma's, born in 1977 from a modest $600 budget courtesy of a local restaurant, has ballooned into one of America's top ten marathons, pulling in over 20,000 participants annually. The point-to-point course from Two Harbors to Canal Park remains a draw, its scenic yet unforgiving terrain—think rolling hills and that relentless lakeside wind—challenging even the elites. Recent winners hail from Minnesota's distance running scene, underscoring the event's pull on homegrown talent, though international fields keep the competition fierce.
However, not everyone's jumping in without a hitch. For those who missed the window, a pricier charity or partner entry option lingers at around $500, a workaround that's drawn some quiet grumbles about accessibility in an already pricey pursuit. Still, the weekend's full slate, including the Friday 5K, promises the usual spectacle: volunteers lining the route, spectators braving the June chill, and that finish line thrill under the Aerial Lift Bridge. Moreover, lodging partners are scrambling to accommodate the influx, emphasizing how this small-town affair punches way above its weight.
Indeed, the rapid sell-outs signal a marathon culture that's as resilient as the runners themselves, even as climate quirks and rising costs nibble at the edges. What does this surge say about our collective need for such endurance rituals in an increasingly fragmented world?